


The Taylor Three - Discovery

by theoriginaldylan



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Comedy, M/M, Satire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoriginaldylan/pseuds/theoriginaldylan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part three (and final part - for now!) in the collection The Taylors Three.  How much more can John, Andy, and Roger take?  Will the game of hearts never end?  Will Nick and Simon ever give them peace and quiet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taylor Three - Discovery

The Duran Duran tour bus rumbled onwards across endless highways and through nondescript American towns.  The great Midwest passed the windows unnoticed by Roger Taylor, Andy Taylor and John Taylor, all seated at the table in the rear and engaged in their never-ending game of cards.  Andy was sitting with his back to the rec room door, with Roger on his left and John right across from him, and all of their expressions were grim as they laid card after card on the table.

Their game was occasionally interrupted by the stern call of “Taylor!” drifting to them from the back room, where Nick and Simon were again engaged in a heated debate.  The Taylors obediently took their turns one after the other when Simon’s call came.  A musical opinion was demanded of them each time, Simon always needing a quick and concise answer to fuel his heated arguments with Nick.  There was no correct answer to Simon’s never-ending inquiries; he was only seeking validation or refutation of his own thoughts and ideas.  However, if any of the Taylors were caught without a strong opinion one way or the other, Simon’s anger would unfortunately be turned to them.

“Roger!  What message, if any, is Weezer trying to convey?”   
“John!  Is Fat Boy Slim actually talented or is he just part of the newest wave of popular DJ and electronic music?”   
“Andy!  Was Mozart _really_ a drunken, egotistical, pain in the arse?”

The Taylors carried on with their game of Hearts, constantly hoping that the loud, angry voices from behind the closed door would change into soft, soothing noises as Nick and Simon engaged in whatever sexual acts they were exploring with one another.  None of them knew exactly what the two of them were up to, and they didn’t really care, either.  They only knew that when Nick and Simon had finished their argument and had proceeded to acts of lust, that they could retire to the cushioned seats of the tour bus and relax without interruption.

“God I miss my wife,” Andy grumbled, tossing a card absently onto the table and scooping all three back towards him, having won the trick.  He led a card and then retrieved his cigarette from the ashtray, inhaling deeply.

Roger tossed a card onto Andy’s and sighed.  “Me too,” he breathed.

John slapped a card on the table and took the pile, looking at his remaining cards and musing on the best card to lead the next hand.  A slow smile touched his lips and he said, “I’m seeing Gela in two days.”

“Well don’t rub it in!” Andy yelled.  “It’s bad enough that these two,” he motioned his cigarette vaguely in the direction of the rear door, “are snogging all the time.  It just reminds me how I haven’t had a good shag since we first set foot on this bloody bus!”

A teasing grin came across John’s face.  “Well Andy, there’s always Roger.”

Roger perked up in his seat, looking shocked and somewhat worried.  He looked from John to Andy and back to John, and said, “Ummm…”

“That’s disgusting!” Andy yelled.  Roger fell silent and breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Come on, Andy, you mean you’ve never…” John paused and waved his hand in a vague gesture.  “You know, with a bloke?” he finished.

Andy’s eyes opened wide.  He stared at John with annoyance and threw his cards on the table.  “God, no!” he yelled.

John leaned across the table and said, “Come on Andy, you can tell us.  We’re all friends here.”  John looked once at Roger, who suddenly looked worried again, his eyes darting rapidly between Andy and John and his finger tapping nervously on his cards.

“I’m married!” Andy exclaimed.

“So is Simon,” John retorted, and grinned again.

Andy pursed his lips and scowled at John.  “Never,” he said simply.

John leaned back finally and looked at his cards, considering his lead.  Roger relaxed somewhat; his hands stopped fidgeting and he turned his eyes back to his own cards.

“What about you, Roger?” John asked casually.  The table was oddly silent, and John finally looked up to find Roger staring across the table with his mouth open and his eyes wide.  John saw a tiny flash of pink on Roger’s ears and as he watched the color marched across his cheeks and down his neck.

Roger was blushing.

Andy turned slowly towards Roger, his eyes wide open.  “Have you??” he demanded.

Roger put one hand over his mouth.  He looked from Andy to John as his face deepened to an impossibly dark shade of red.

Andy looked back to John with frank astonishment.  “That’s _not_ a denial,” he said, waving his cigarette over at the blushing Roger.

“No, it’s not,” John replied softly.  He turned to address Roger.  “It’s okay, mate, you don’t have to say anything,” John said quietly, reassuring him.  Roger nodded slowly with understanding, his hand still clamped over his mouth.

Andy shook his head.  “You think you know someone,” he remarked.  “I suppose now you’re going to tell me you’ve done it, too?” Andy asked John sarcastically.

John put down his cards and picked up his own pack of cigarettes.  At Andy’s insistence he had bought his own at their last stop.  John withdrew one now and lit it, all the while eyeing Andy carefully across the table.  He took a deep drag, blowing the smoke directly at Andy and holding his gaze steady.

Andy’s face fell with understanding.  “No!  You?” he exclaimed, shocked.

John nodded.  He picked up his cards again and started pondering them once more.  He could feel Andy staring at him and he looked up to find his friend looking agitated, his arms folded across his chest and his face taut with frustration.  “Well?” Andy demanded, lifting one hand to wave his smoldering cigarette in the air for emphasis.

John sighed and gave in to Andy’s curiosity.  “Back in the 80s when we were touring the states…” John started.  He gestured his cigarette towards the rear door and said,  “Me and…”

Andy interrupted.  “You were Simon’s bird??” he yelled with surprise, leaning forward in his chair.

“No!” John yelled back.  He threw his cards on the table and yelled angrily, “Shut your trap and listen for once!”  John leaned back in his chair and smoked his cigarette, exhaling slowly.  “Me and Nick…” John started, but Andy interrupted him again.

“Nick was _your_ bird?” Andy exclaimed, pointing his cigarette at John’s face.

John rolled his eyes and looked over to Roger, who had put down his own cards and was resting his head in his hands.  He was regarding the table carefully, avoiding eye contact with either of his friends, and he was still blushing terribly.

Seeing that Roger was completely incapable of assisting him in his frustrating dialogue, John turned his attention back to Andy and tried to continue his explanation.  “Nick and I had a few interludes.  We’d known each other for a long time, Andy, it can’t really be any surprise that we…” John paused again.  He looked over to Roger who had now put his head down on the table and was shaking it back and forth.  John sighed and turned back to Andy.  “We had a few evenings of delightful sexual exploration.  Nothing more than that,” John declared with finality, and picked up his cards.

“God,” Andy murmured, shaking his head with disbelief.  He leaned back in his chair and smoked his cigarette, contemplating what he had just learned about his friend.  He was thinking about Nick and John embracing each other, but the image just didn’t seem to fit in his mind.  He started to wonder…  “What was it like?” Andy asked, suddenly curious.

John kept his eyes fixed on his cards and he shrugged indifferently.  He waved his cigarette towards Roger.  “Roger looks like he might know.  Ask him,” John said, dismissing Andy with his words.  He was tired of explaining things and wanted Andy’s attention turned elsewhere.

Roger lifted his head up sharply and looked across the table at John.  When he didn’t look up, he turned to find Andy staring at him expectantly.  Roger put his elbows on the table and put his hands over his face, shaking his head with distress.

“It was Gio’s idea,” Roger started.  John lifted his eyes to look at him, stunned.  “She thought it would be fun if we spiced up our sex life by trying a threesome,” Roger continued, his hands never leaving his face.  “We did it with a woman, and we did it with a man.  They were friends of ours.”

An amused smile crept over John’s face.  “Roger, I do believe that makes you and Gio ‘swingers’.”

Roger’s hands finally released his face but he kept his eyes focused on the table.  “We only did it a few times,” he mumbled.

“How many?” Andy asked.  Roger raised one hand from the table and put his hand outwards, curling his thumb against his palm:  four.  “Total?”  Andy asked.  Roger shook his head slowly and his other hand came up from the table, his fingers forming a V:  two.  “Four with the bird and two with the bloke?”  Andy asked.

Roger shook his head, his eyes glued to the table.

Andy turned back to John and the two of them stared at each other across the table.  “I guess they liked the bloke,” John remarked.  He shrugged casually, taking a slow drag from his cigarette and then putting it out in the ashtray.

Roger put his hands down and finally lifted his head to regard his friends.  He seemed astonished that he had spoken so freely, but he also appeared relieved that his confession had been received with little more than idle curiosity from Andy and a small acknowledgement from John.  Roger’s face started to return to a normal color, and he exhaled loudly, glad that his moment of embarrassment was over.

Roger started to pick up his cards when John asked, “You hear that?”  All three Taylors cocked their heads towards the back room.  The angry voices had stopped and a curious silence had descended upon the bus.  “Andy, go check the door,” John commanded.

Andy crushed out his cigarette and stood up.  He walked the few steps to the back room and squatted down, leaning one ear against the door.  There wasn’t a sound coming to him from the room.  There were no angry voices, but no soft ones, either.  Simon and Nick were completely silent.  Andy decided to check on them and make sure they were all right; he had a sudden flash in his head of the two of them finally killing each other in a murderous frenzy during an argument.  Andy reached for the doorknob and turned it carefully.  He slowly pushed the door open and squeezed his head into the gap to peer into the room, and what he saw there made him smile.  Andy turned his head to the table, gesturing with his arm that John and Roger should quietly get up and join him.

Andy squatted down a bit further so that Roger could lean over him.  John leaned over Roger and their heads all peeked through the door one on top of the other.  Three pairs of eyes peered into the back room to regard Nick and Simon, lying together on the couch, asleep.  Simon’s back was leaned against the rear of the couch, with Nick comfortably spooned up next to him.  Simon’s left arm was draped around Nick’s stomach, and Nick’s own left hand was on top of Simon’s, their fingers locked together tightly.

“Isn’t that adorable!” John whispered, smiling.

“They’re cute!” Roger whispered, also smiling.

“Disgustingly cute,” Andy agreed, sneering.

The three Taylors were quiet, watching the peaceful scene in front of them.  _Two more days…just two more days…_ John thought.  _If only Gio were here…_ Roger thought.

Andy felt the slight pressure of Roger’s chin leaning against the top of his head, and he thought, _I wonder what it’s like…_ He abruptly stopped the thought before it could go any further, replacing it with a new one:   _I miss my wife!_

Nick opened his eyes and saw the Taylors staring at them through the door.  Andy’s body jerked backwards in surprise and he clumsily hit Roger, whose head flew up and hit John’s chin sharply.

“Fuck!” cried John, rubbing his chin.

“Ow!” yelled Roger, patting his head.

“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Andy.  All three of them stumbled backwards, knocking into one another and muttering under their breath.  Finally they detangled themselves and stood beside the door to the rear room, all somewhat disoriented.

“Okay,” John said, taking a deep, calming breath.  “Andy, close the door.  Roger, sit,” he commanded.  He moved to the table and sat down, still rubbing his sore chin.  Roger followed suit, settling back into his seat next the window.

Andy squatted down and peered through the door once more.  Nick had rolled over and he was facing Simon, his head buried into his neck.  Simon’s arm was caressing Nick’s back, and his lips were applying tender kisses to Nick’s forehead.  Simon opened his eyes and saw Andy staring, and he lifted his hand from Nick’s back to wave at the door in a dismissive gesture, mouthing the words “Go Away.”

Andy stood up and gently closed the door, leaving Nick and Simon to sleep peacefully, their bodies curled together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Andy returned to the table, which was now completely silent.  Roger was staring out the window, lost in the memories of sexual escapades with his wife and friends.  He was pondering the body of the man they had gone to bed with; remembering his surprisingly soft lips, his skillful hands, and his deep, sensual mouth.  Roger wondered if the couple still “swinged”, as John had put it, and he wondered briefly if Gio might consider another evening of sexual exploration…

John was staring at the door to the back room, thinking about his interludes with Nick.  He hadn’t been entirely truthful with Andy; he and Nick had shared much more than a small amount of sexual exploration.  They had been lovers for years, until fame and fortune intercepted their lives and they became pawns of teenage magazines and endless public appearances.  Their secret affair ended amicably in 1984, when Nick married Julianne and John decided it was time to move on.  Still, a part of him was envious of Nick and Simon’s open lust for one another.  In the 80s both John and Nick had been too laden with immaturity and insecurities to continue as lovers.  John wondered suddenly if Nick ever thought about those times…

Andy was studying Roger’s profile.  He decided that the years had treated Roger well; the passage of time slimming his features and roughening the innocent, boyish look he cast in the 80s.  Andy noted how his skin was pulled taut over his high cheekbones, and how the wrinkles around his lips and eyes only emphasized his maturity and intelligence.  Andy recalled the sensation of Roger’s chin resting on his head when they were squatting at the door to the back room.  The thought crossed Andy’s mind again:  _I wonder…_

Roger sensed Andy’s curious stare and turned to him, gazing at him with alarm.  Andy quickly averted his eyes and slammed his open hand on the table, breaking the silence.  It was also an attempt to disrupt the strange thoughts running through his head, and he hoped that Roger hadn’t guessed what he had been thinking.

“Crap, Andy!” John yelled, annoyed that his thoughts had been interrupted by the sharp sound.

Andy lit another cigarette and moaned pathetically, “I miss my wife.”

John lifted his hand and waved two fingers teasingly in front of Andy’s face.  “Two days,” he said, and grinned.

“Sod off,” Andy grumbled.  “Play your damn card already so we can finish this game and enjoy the peace and quiet.”

John withdrew his hand and picked up his cards, regarding them only for a moment before tossing one on the table.

Andy threw his own card on top of John’s.  “How much longer?” he asked.  “Vegas, Los Angeles, northern California, and we’re done, yeah?”  He looked over at Roger expectantly.

Roger shook his head, eyeing his cards and tossing one onto the pile.  Andy snarled as he took the trick, disappointed that he had gained another point from the heart Roger had thrown.  “They added Canada, remember?” Roger said, looking towards Andy.

“Fuck!” Andy yelled, slamming his last card on the table with annoyance.  “After California we’ll have another week of _this_?” he exclaimed, cocking his thumb at the back door and looking again at Roger.

“At least,” Roger replied sadly.

“It won’t be that bad,” John added, looking at Andy across the table.  Roger threw down his final card and John put his own on top, pulling the final trick towards him.  He lit another cigarette, smiling at both Andy and Roger.  “We get to take an _airplane_.”

Roger sighed with relief as he pulled together his cards to add up his points.  “Thank goodness,” he remarked.  “A reprieve from the arguing and shagging.”

Andy’s face still had a sour expression.  “I don’t know…” he said ominously.  “I have a bad feeling it may be even worse.”

Roger shrugged.  “It’s nothing we can’t handle, right mates?” he asked of his friends.

John nodded agreeably.  Andy looked at both of them in turn and sighed, picking up the notebook next to his elbow and preparing to jot down the final score and add it to the growing numbers on the pages.  “I guess we’ll see,” he murmured, but he didn’t sound optimistic.

And the tour bus rumbled on…


End file.
